Letters
by Jaina Kenobi
Summary: A series of Letters that pass through Pemberley have a variety of effects.
1. Chapter 1

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

**Summary:** A series of letters that pass through Pemberley have a variety of effects.

**Disclaimer:** Well, technically, since Jane Austen is in the public domain, I don't _need_ a disclaimer at all... but I still don't own any of it. Sigh.

_

* * *

_

_My dear Mr. Darcy:_

_I am glad to hear that your business is going well. Pray, sir, does that mean you will return to me sooner than you anticipated? I certainly hope so, as I have some news for you which I believe will delight you as much as it has me. However, as this is the sort of news which is better told in person, I would rather not have to send it by letter unless I absolutely must. I wish to see the look on your face when I deliver it._

_And with that I may have said too much, so I shall venture nothing further save to inform you that we are all well here and hope to see you safely home in the near future._

_Yours,_

_Elizabeth Darcy_

Satisfied with the letter (though, in truth, it could hardly be considered more than a note), Elizabeth quickly sealed it and wrote its direction on the front. How fervently she wished, now, that her husband had delayed his business just a week more! For that very morning, she had finally requested a visit from her physician, who confirmed what she had been suspecting: she was with child. Initially, she had intended to write her husband and tell him the news immediately, but as she hurried to her desk she had changed her mind. After all, how could she deny herself the pleasure of watching him as he processed the news? No, she would simply write to hurry his return and pray that he would take heed.

* * *

My apologies that this is such a short chapter. I can't promise that they'll get longer SOON, but I promise that they will get longer. Eventually. 

Of course, the frequency of updates is directly related to the number of reviews, so... :shrugs:

Jaya


	2. Chapter 2

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

**Summary:** A series of letters that pass through Pemberley have a variety of effects.

**Disclaimer:** Well, technically, since Jane Austen is in the public domain, I don't _need_ a disclaimer at all... but I still don't own any of it. Sigh.

_

* * *

_

Mr. Darcy was pleased to find his wife's letter among his other papers, and so made it his first order of business to read and reply to her missive. Short as it was, it was sufficient to bring a smile to his face, albeit a reluctant one, as he penned his response._  
_

_Dearest Lizzy:_

_It is good to know that all is well at Pemberley. However, I fear you shall have to hold on to your news as long as we had originally anticipated, for though my business is indeed going well, I cannot leave until the appointed time. Unless you change your mind and decide to write me the news after all, there is little that can be done save wait. I admit, you have piqued my curiosity, but as nothing can be done about it at present, I must ask that you not torture me with repeated requests for my hastened return. Rest assured that I wish nothing more than to be back at your side, and I hope very much that I will not be delayed at all. But no, madam, I cannot hasten my return any more than I have already done._

_As you will note, I have enclosed a letter to my sister, as well. I hope you will be so kind as to deliver it to her, though it contains little more than what I have here told you._

_Until that happy time when we are again united, I remain _

_Your humble servant,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

He had, in fact, written to Georgiana the previous evening (as he had failed to include a letter to her in his first communication home), so it was no trouble to place her letter with Elizabeth's and send them both off, as he did immediately.

That was, he knew, going to be the most pleasant aspect of the day, and once it was finished he almost wished that he had postponed it. However, he still had Elizabeth's letter (and a half-dozen of her old handkercheifs, the ones that she threw away in favor of new ones a few weeks after they married and that he, in a moment of uncharacteristic sentimentality, rescued from the dustbin), and he could read it later. For the moment, the sooner he was able to conclude his business, the better. Then, perhaps, he could read something. Maybe he would even read Elizabeth's letter, and then he might daydream about her. After all, they had only been married a year. It was perfectly natural for him to be more in love with his wife than he could ever have dreamed possible upon his marrying her. She had been so beautiful that day, and her beauty had only increased...

This will never do, he told himself sternly. You have work to do, and the sooner you get it done, the sooner you can return to Elizabeth. He carefully avoided all thoughts of fine eyes and dark curls that accompanied that reminder. Willing himself to concentrate, he settled in for a long, tedious day.

* * *

Well, I was hoping for more of a response, but I suppose people were waiting on _me_ to write more before they bothered reviewing. So here's the next chapter, which is still painfully short, I know. This is the last of the really really short ones, though, I promise. After this, chapters will be a reasonable length. And I have the whole story already written--it only needs editing--so frequency of updates depends only on how much I have to work and how motivated I am to post. Hint, hint.

Jaya


	3. Chapter 3

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

* * *

Elizabeth sat, pen in hand, wondering exactly how best to tease her husband for his last letter. He had, predictably, requested that she not torment him with repeated entreaties for him to return home, and now she was trying to decide how best to honor his request in everything but actuallity. Finally, she made her decision and began to write. 

_My love:_

_As you have expressed a wish that I refrain from referring to my news in my letters, I shall endeavour to do nothing more than tell you of the goings-on at Pemberley, which I hope will give you some pleasure._

_My sister Jane Bingley and her husband have, as you know, moved in to their new home and are now quite settled. I see Jane almost once every week, and Mr. Bingley nearly as often, an arrangement which is agreeable to everyone. Jane, Georgiana and I often sit in the music room together, and Georgiana plays while Jane and I sew. Lately we have found that our interest runs to small items when sewing, and in this manner we feel as if we are accomplishing a great deal as we might get two or three projects done in one visit. Georgiana, while she is not playing, sits and sews with us too, and we are quite a merry party. Mr. Bingley joins our conversations when it pleases him and it always gives me a great deal of pleasure to see how he and Jane so obviously enjoy each other's company. When he is not with us, he is often to be found in the library, taking advantage of your fine collection. I confess there have been times when my fingers have been sore of the needle and I have joined him in the pursuit of a good book. I recall, too, a gentleman of my acquaintance remarking that an accomplished lady should add to the improvement of her mind by extensive reading, and as I am loathe to displeasure him in any manner, my reading is often more extensive than I should otherwise choose._

_One of our favorite topics of discussion during our little sewing bees is the modifications which we would like to make to one of the rooms in the house. It is a dear room just as it is, but a little bit old fashioned, and we have such grand ideas about how to fix it up. Jane and I especially like to envision different arrangements of furniture, &c, but I must confess it is a good thing that we are not actually doing anything to the room yet, as our fancy changes every day and the room would never be finished. It will, however, need some changes, as Georgiana informs me that it has not changed since she was born, and it is quite out of date. We will wait for your return to obtain your consent before we begin doing anything, Dear, so do not make yourself uneasy in that respect. I should like your input on the matter, too, though I cannot begin to imagine whether or not it will signify anything to you. For that as well, we shall have to wait until you return._

_I do not often go out on walks any longer, as I am beginning to find that the exercise does little save exhaust me unnecessarily. However, Georgiana finds great pleasure in walking the grounds with Mr. Bingley when he comes, and I sit with Jane and watch them when they come in view of the windows. The grounds are very beautiful at this time of year, as well you know, and I do enjoy seeing them even if I cannot often be out and walking in them. Never fear, my love, I am certain that this will not always be the case and I shall eventually be able to walk out with you once again. However, for the next few months, I cannot imagine that it will be a very pleasurable pastime for me._

_My father came to visit me yesterday, and he plans to stay for some time, though he refuses to set a date. As the Bingleys were here already, they have decided to remain as long as he, and we are quite a merry party. It is good to spend time in his company again, and I can see that he thrives here with me much more than he does when he is at Longbourn with my mother. It pains me to say it, but every time he comes I cannot help observing that he looks a little more weary, and I fear that my family is wearing on him more than he will let on. Thankfully, I believe that his time at Pemberley does him a great deal of good and he always seems more himself when he goes away again._

_Oh, but it is so good to have him with me! He and Mr. Bingley spend a great deal of time together in the library, of course, both of them being excellent readers, but just as often he will come and sit with me, and we will talk for hours together. I always forget how much I enjoy talking with him until he comes back and I have the opportunity to remember afresh. He is very happy for me, and very excited in my news, though perhaps a bit nervous (but I promised to say nothing of that, so here I will cease and apologize). We talk often about the goings-on in Meryton and amongst my former acquaintance, and from him I hear all I shall ever wish to know of them. My mother is still an insufferable gossip, of course, so he knows a good deal more than he might otherwise, and it gives him some pleasure to report to me that which I wish to know. We often are able to enjoy a good laugh over the folly of his neighbours, and I believe that it is as pleasurable to him as it is to me when we do._

_That, Sir, is all I can think to tell you at this time. Hopefully the length of this letter does not offend you, as I merely intended to give you a portrait of my doings and not bore you with the minutiae of my daily life. I hope that all is going well with your business and that you will be home when you planned, at least, and not be delayed. I do miss you, Fitzwilliam._

_Your wife,_

_Elizabeth Darcy_

Fairly smirking and very satisfied with herself, Elizabeth sealed the letter decisively. She could hardly wait to see the sort of response this letter would bring.

vVvVvVv

Late that night, Elizabeth woke with a start. She was vaguely conscious of a lingering pain, but it was not until she felt another sharp pain in her abdomen that she realized what had caused it. Her thoughts flew instantly to her preganacy. "Oh, God, _no_," she whispered.

Perhaps, she thought irrationally, perhaps if she stayed where she was and tried very hard to ignore the pain, nothing would come of it. But another pang forcerd her to abandon that thought in favor of getting to the chamber pot as quickly as she could. Once there, she waited in dread for what would surely come next: the loss of her child. She began to cry softly, suddenly and irrationally wishing that she had never sent anything to Fitzwilliam that even hinted at her pregnancy, for it would only give her pain to tell him that she had lost the baby.

Eventually, she realized that she had been motionless atop the chamber pot for quite some time, and nothing had happened. She sat for a few minutes longer, praying that nothing would happen. When it did not, she slowly stood and returned to her bed, resolving to be even more cautious with herself than she had been heretofore to avoid future such events. Her mind torn between fear and hope, she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Just in case you were wondering, there will come a point (pretty soon, I think) where there will be more narrative and less letter. You know, in case you were getting sick of just letters and were hoping that some sort of story might start to come through. Though, I never claimed to have much of a plot... :smiles: 

Jaya


	4. Chapter 4

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

* * *

Darcy was torn between whether to laugh or shake his head at Elizabeth's letter. Eventually, he settled on both while he wrote his reply. 

_My darling wife:_

_Do not trouble yourself on the length of your letter, Elizabeth. I greatly enjoyed your tidings and can only wish I had something of equal interest to impart. Unfortunately, my business is dry and boring even to myself, and I fear that sending you a letter filled with the details of my daily life would serve only to put both of us to sleep. Your letter, on the other hand, was quite entertaining._

_I am glad that your father has come to Pemberley again. You know he is welcome whenever he likes, and I should be glad to know that he will delay his return to Longbourn until I can come home and greet him myself. The added pleasure of knowing that his extended stay would give you joy also spurs my invitation, of course, as I am sure you would have suspected._

_But, Lizzy, do not think me ignorant of what you were trying to accomplish with that letter. I read the overtones of your concealed information in every line of that missive. You cannot have expected that I would not, of course. I can offer nothing in reply save an acknowledgement of your efforts and a reminder that I cannot return home any sooner than I had originally planned, no matter how it pains me to be away for so long. If you would like to travel to London and give me your news, that is your prerogative, though something tells me that you would argue the impossibility of such an action, due in large part to the very secret you are so anxious to tell. I can read between the lines better than you might think, my dear._

_Be that as it may, I am still stuck in London until this business is finished, and it will be finished much faster if I leave off my letter-writing and return to the matter at hand. Send my love to Georgiana and my respects to your father, if you would be so kind._

_Yours,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

If she only knew the pain she was giving him! Oh, he would tolerate it happily, for it clearly amused her to tease him, and he did usually enjoy her teasing. But now, all it did was pain him, to imagine all those he loved most at Pemberley, enjoying the beautiful weather and each other's company, without him there. And to hear Elizabeth's voice as she teased him, to see that sparkle in her eye... she would make him guess at her secret, he knew, but he suspected that it was nothing more than that she was not, as he had half feared when she had begun to seem ill, dying of some strange disease. Of course, reasonably, he knew that she was in no danger, but the mere idea of being forced to watch his wife die as he had been forced to watch his mother die, and being helpless to do anything but watch, was far too terrifying for him to be rational about it. But in her letter she seemed happy, even joyful, and he had no reason to fear that her news was serious.

Still, he reflected as he went to bed that night--alone again--he would be most grateful if this little mess would simply resolve itself and leave him free to go home to his wife.

* * *

Poor Darcy, he would feel much worse if he knew what his wife had gone through. Of course, if he knew, my story would have no point whatsoever. Admittedly, it hasn't got much of a point now, but what little point it has would be quickly destroyed by that. Plot? You mean this thing was supposed to have a plot? 

Anyway, hopefully you're enjoying this. I think there are only 3 letters left (not certain, everything is subject to change) and then, of course, we get to see what the effects of those letters are, which will probably take a chapter after that. So, if things don't change too drastically, there are about 4 chapters left. If you're keeping count.

Jaya


	5. Chapter 5

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

* * *

Elizabeth had been in a constant state of anxiety since that first night of terror. She had called the doctor in the morning, who seemed pleased with her progress and not terribly concerned with her story of the night before. This did nothing to ease her mind, for she suspected that he imagined her to be afflicted with nerves similar to those of her mother, which did not endear him to her at all. He seemed to be not at all concerned with what she knew to be alarming in a woman of her condition, and it vexed her greatly. Not wishing to give unnecessary worry to her family, in case the doctor was right, she did not object to his diagnosis out loud and quietly thanked him for his help. 

However, while they could not be predicted, the sharp pains did not abandon her entirely, though thankfully they seemed to come only at night and she could keep them from her family's notice. She called the doctor again and again, until he finally told her that she was likely exaggerating her condition as she was not accustomed to being pregnant, and that she did not need to call him unless the pains increased in severity or frequency. As they did not come every day, and not with any sort of regularity, he was not overly concerned and begged her to relax. It was, in all likelihood, simply her body's way of dealing with an unknown intruder, and would stop as her pregnancy progressed.

After much deliberation, she decided not to alarm Mr. Darcy, either, and consequently wrote the following:

_My loving husband,_

_Your sister sends her love in reply and my father his respects. Both are doing well, as am I, though I am perhaps a little ill some nights. I am told that it is not an uncommon occurrence for married women in my condition, however, so I beg you do not trouble yourself over it.  
_

_I suspect that this will be my last letter before you come home, for if you are still not delayed I do not think there will be time for you to reply and for me to reply to that. That being the case, I suppose I shall not importune you too long to hasten your return, as by this point it hardly seems worth the effort. However, do not suspect that my not expressing such sentiments implies that they no longer exist._

_I have little to tell you that has not already been said. I have yet to see Jane this week and may not have the chance to see her at all until the week following, for I understand there was some pressing matter to attend to at her estate that requires both her presence and that of her husband. As to the specifics, I know nothing, and if you want to know more you shall have to appeal to Mr. Bingley himself._

_Other than that, little has changed here and I fear this will be a short note. I shall send all my love for I have little else to give at the moment. I hope it will suffice._

_With all my heart, I am_

_Ever yours,_

_Elizabeth Darcy_

She was not wholly satisfied with the letter, but she was not in any humor to write another, so she sealed it and sent it off. That task accomplished (it being much less diverting than it had proved in the past), she went to seek out her father in the library, to pass a quiet morning of reading and taking with him, trying to forget her fears._  
_

* * *

This story has changed a lot since I first wrote it, and I'm not entirely sure how it's going to end any more. And I have no idea if this can actually happen to pregnant women, since I have pretty much no experience with them (I was 5 when my youngest brother was born, and all I remember is that when my mom first told me that I was going to have a new sibling I didn't believe her, because she wasn't fat). This has no basis in medicine or anything, just me playing around. But, hey, it's fiction! That's what suspension of disbelief is for, right? 

Jaya


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth did not receive a reply to her last letter (though she did not really expect one), and she found her anticipation increasing daily as the time grew nearer for Darcy's return. On that very morning, she awoke somewhat earlier than was her custom, for her pains returned to her once more. They were considerably less than they had been in the past, however, and Elizabeth chose to believe that was a good sign. Consequently, she was decidely cheerful as she dressed for her day, so much so that her maid even commented on her improved mood. 

Upon descending the stairs in search of breakfast, she found that she was not the only one awake, and she was glad to break her fast with her father. Georgiana was not yet awake, so Mr. Bennet was able to enjoy his daughter's company unhindered by anyone else. They spent a good deal of time discussing Elizabeth's sisters, but an equal length of time would have been spent on other things when that subject was exhausted, were it not for the arrival of an express for Mrs. Darcy. Puzzled, she left off her conversation with her father to read the letter. She felt the blood drain from her face and her head grow light. Indeed, she nearly fainted and fell from her chair, but her father was at her side in an instant and prevented that.

"Lizzy! What is it, Dear?"

Elizabeth could not but shake her head, her eyes welling with tears, and silently hand him the note with a trembling hand. He read it aloud:

_"Mrs. Darcy,_

_"We regret to inform you that your husband's carriage was overturned this morning on the road from London and he was thrown clear. The search party has not returned and his body has yet to be recovered; however, there can be little doubt that he is dead. Accept our condolences on the matter. We are most heartily sorry._

_"Yours, etc."_

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to keep her composure. Mr. Bennet placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and said in a low voice, "I am very, very sorry, Lizzy."

It was her undoing. With a gasp, she broke into desperate sobs, allowing her father to gather her up in his arms and attempt to comfort her as he might. "I never told him," she wailed. "He never knew, because I was too selfish to tell him! Oh, Papa, I never told him!"

If Mr. Bennet was confused as to what this cryptic cry pertained, he said nothing. He merely held his daughter until her sobs were spent and she lay in his arms weakly, still sniffing and shuddering. Suddenly, she gasped and sat up straight in her chair, her expression one of pure terror. "Papa," she whispered, "send for the doctor."

"Lizzy, that will not help--"

"For God's sake, go, before I lose the baby as well!" she cried as another pain shot through her. Eyes wide, Mr. Bennet hurried to do as he was told. Elizabeth sat very still in her chair, concentrating with all her might on her baby, praying that he might be spared. She did not know how long she sat there, alone, racked with more pain than she knew what to do with, fighting for a life that was not her own. Eventually, the doctor came, but as soon as Elizabeth relaxed slightly to allow him to examine her, she felt the blood pour from her body and she knew all was lost.

The doctor was saying something, and then her father was carrying her, but she paid them no mind. _My husband and my baby, all in one day... _What could she do? The pain was too much; for the first time in her life, Elizabeth fainted.

vVvVvVv

That evening, Jane and Charles Bingley arrived. Elizabeth was still abed, unconscious, so the role of hostess was left to Georgiana. Mr. Bennet took his son-in-law to Mr. Darcy's study to begin resolving the deceased gentleman's affairs, and Georgiana took Jane up to see Lizzy.

"She has not stirred all day," Georgiana said quietly as she took a seat by her sister's bed. "I fear the shock was just too much for her."

Jane shook her head sadly. "She has lost the two people dearest to her, how can she be expected to bear such pain? Oh, my dearest Lizzy, how I wish I could ease your burden!" But she knew well how impossible that was; indeed, at the moment, she believed that she would be content to simply be able to speak to her sister, regardless of what Lizzy had to say. It would be a sign of life, and Elizabeth had not shown anything like one save her shallow breathing for quite some time.

Georgiana bowed her head to hide her tears. She was afraid to ask the question that was weighing most heavily on her mind, but she could not stop thinking about it. Eventually, she gathered her courage enough to whisper, "Jane? What if she dies, too? I cannot be mistress of Pemberley! I should not know what to do with myself!"

Jane hurried over to the other side of Lizzy's bed so she could comfort her sister. "Oh, no, Georgiana, you mustn't allow yourself to think that way. Lizzy is a very strong woman, and I know that she can pull through this. Even if she does not, Colonel Fitzwilliam is still your guardian and I'm sure that he will be willing to help you however you need. And of course you may always come to Mr. Bingley or myself for help. We are your family, too, and we would never abandon you."

Managing a weak smile, Georgiana thanked her sister and forced herself to stop crying. After all, she realized, she had to be strong for Lizzy. Her brother would have expected as much from her; she was a Darcy, after all, and in his absence it was left to her to ensure that his wife was never in want of anything. To do anything less would be to dishonour her brother's memory, and she could not bear the thought of that. _I will do you proud, Fitzwilliam. I will take your place, _she resolved. It was time for her to step up and take on her share of the responsibility, and Georgiana Darcy would not shirk her duty.

* * *

I know, I know, I'm evil. If it makes you feel any better, I hadn't planned this at all. But then people mentioned that I was missing this little thing called a plot, and I realized that they were right. So I invented one. My apologies to those of you who were enjoying the lighthearted nature of the first few chapters! Don't worry, the story is far from over. Not sure exactly where it's going any more, but it's not anywhere near over. 

Jaya


	7. Chapter 7

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

* * *

Elizabeth did, eventually, awaken, but it was not until late the next morning. She felt completely drained, and it took her a moment to remember why. When she did, she opened her eyes with a jolt, wondering if it had been some sort of dreadful dream, but Jane and Georgiana materialized on either side of her bed and she could tell from their expressions that it was not. 

"Jane, I cannot..." she began to whisper.

Jane shook her head. "No one expects anything of you right now, Lizzy, save that you rest and allow yourself time to heal."

"Time to heal? I cannot heal from this. Oh, would that I had died as well!" Elizabeth cried.

"Lizzy!"

"Don't 'Lizzy' me, Jane Bingley, you know nothing of how I feel!"

"You are not the only one who lost someone very dear to you, Elizabeth," Georgiana said softly. "Please, I know that we cannot imagine your pain, but that does not mean that we aren't experiencing pain of our own. I lost my brother--indeed, in some ways, I lost my father--and I daresay my pain is no less than yours."

"But you did not lose your baby, too," Elizabeth snapped, "and you cannot know how that feels. I beg you would both leave me alone, for nothing you can say could possibly improve my disposition."

Jane and Georgiana exchanged glances and nodded. Together, they rose and began to leave, but Elizabeth stopped them just as they were almost out of her room. "Jane!"

She turned without a word, and Elizabeth said softly, "I am sorry, Jane. It's just... I..." She stopped and sighed. "Will you do something for me?"

"Of course!"

"In my writing desk is a stack of papers tied with a red ribbon. Would you bring them to me?"

Jane smiled warmly. "Gladly, Elizabeth. I will return with them directly."

"Thank you, Jane." Inside the writing desk were all the letters Elizabeth had received from her husband, tied in a neat bundle with a red silk ribbon. The collection included the letter which he had written at Kent, and which she had somehow never gotten around to burning as he had requested.

"Nor shall it ever be burnt, now!" she thought firmly. "Every word from his hand is far too dear to part with." She hoped that to read the letters would give her a sense of her husband's presence, and she was desperate for some sort of consolation, however shallow. Jane brought the letters quickly, and stayed only long enough to establish that Lizzy was not hungry before she left her sister alone to grieve.

vVvVvVv

Later that afternoon, a lone horse came galloping along the road to Pemberley with all the speed it could muster. Its rider was tired, sore and disheveled, but no worse for the considerable wear he had suffered recently. Mr. Darcy was unaware of the news that had reached his home the day previous, but he suspected that they had been notified of the carriage accident and were terribly worried for him. He had indeed been thrown clear, but had landed in a soft patch of moss and suffered little more than a few scrapes and a sore rear, which had borne the brunt of his fall (and which was not improved by the long horseback ride he had undertaken since). He was anxious to return as quickly as possible and reassure his family of his well-being, but he could sense that neither he nor the horse he rode were in the best condition, so he did not push the mare as much as he would have liked over this last stretch.

Finally, though, he was rewarded with the sight of Pemberley in the distance, and he sat up straighter in his saddle. It would be mere minutes now! His horse sensed his change in mood and sped up, recognizing that there was a barn in her future if she could but get there. They arrived at the barn more quickly than Darcy had hoped, and he jumped off the horse almost before she stopped moving. He called for a stable boy and handed the mare to him, wondering why the poor lad looked like he'd just seen a ghost. He made a mental note to check up on the boy later, and make sure that he wasn't ill. At the moment, all he wanted was to be reunited with his family.

He jogged up the stairs and burst through the front door of the house, nearly knocking his sister over, as she had been reaching out to open that very door.

"Georgiana!" he said happily, reaching out to greet her with a hug. She stared at him, wide-eyed, for half a second before she threw herself at him with such force that she nearly knocked him over.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam! We received an express yesterday morning telling us that you had been killed in a carriage accident! It was the most dreadful day--Lizzy fainted and was abed all day, I could hardly think past my grief, and poor Mr. Bennet was so overwhelmed with trying to help us both cope he finally locked himself in the library with a bottle of port and didn't come out for hours," she said in a rush. "Jane and Charles Bingley arrived last evening and Mr. Bingley went to your study to help Mr. Bennet resolve your affairs, and Jane and I went to Lizzy. We stayed with her all night but she didn't wake until this morning and oh, William, she is so terribly distraught, and I fear she is not well at all."

It took Mr. Darcy a few minutes to process all of this information, and he was certain that some of it had still escaped him, but he understood the important part very well. "Elizabeth is ill? Where is she?"

"In her chambers," Georgiana said. "She said she wanted to be alone and refused anything from anyone all day. She will not even allow us to offer her food; she has not eaten since yesterday morning. Jane and I are dreadfully worried for her."

Mr. Darcy nodded impatiently. "I shall go to her. You must spread the news that I am not dead--I believe I gave that poor stable boy quite a fright with my sudden appearance just now," he said with a rueful smile. "Oh! and have something sent up for Lizzy and I. I am terribly hungry and I'm sure she is the same."

He rushed up the stairs, his fatigue forgotten in his hurry, taking the steps two or three at a time. He could hear her crying from the top of the stairs, and he practically ran to her room. He burst through the door to see her laying on her bed, turned away from him, sobbing. A clumsy pile of papers sat next to her, almost completely concealing a scrap of red ribbon. One sheet was clutched in her hand, but she was not paying it any mind. Her cries were those of absolute agony, and he hastened to her side to make them stop.

"Lizzy!" She stopped crying and looked up, but did not turn around. "Elizabeth!" She turned as he dropped to his knees on the bed beside her. "Elizabeth, dearest..."

He did not get any further than that, as Elizabeth gave a cry of joy and threw her arms around him. "Fitzwilliam! Oh, God, Will, we thought... we thought you were dead..." And with this she gave a sob and began crying all over again, much to Darcy's surprise. He kissed her forehead and pulled her into his lap, murmuring what reassurance he could to her as she continued to cry.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy," he said. "I never thought word would get back to you that I had died. The accident was surely not so bad as you were led to believe, for I am quite well, only a little sore."

She shook her head and tried to compose herself. Eventually, she managed to gasp, "I thought... I should never see you again." Another sob. "I did not know what to think, I only wanted you... and I could never have you again." She kissed his cheek and sniffed, finally having managed to cease her unladylike wailing. "I am sorry, Dearest. I didn't mean to begin crying again, only I couldn't help myself."

"No, don't apologize. I understand--your emotions must have been everywhere today. I am only glad I did not make you wait any longer before I returned." He kissed her gently and stroked her hair. "I'm the one who ought to be sorry, Elizabeth." He looked down and saw that she was still clutching the paper he'd seen earlier. "What's this?" he asked, trying to pull it from her hand.

She pulled away, blushing. "Nothing. Just... nothing."

"Elizabeth, surely you don't feel as if you need to hide anything from me. Is it a letter I sent you?"

"Ye-es, but you don't want to read it," she stammered.

He chuckled at that. "I wrote it, didn't I? Why shouldn't I like to read it?" He reached for it again, but she pulled it away.

"You wrote it, so it cannot have anything to say that you don't already know," she insisted.

Darcy was getting impatient. "Be reasonable, Elizabeth. I cannot be angry with you unless the letter isn't from me, and since you already admitted that it is, I can't imagine that it won't be. Just let me see it." Reluctantly, she let him pry it from her grasp. He gently unfolded it, trying not to tear it or smear it any more than her tears already had. The date was already smeared beyond legibility, but the remainder looked well enough. He began to read it out loud:

"Miss Bennet." He paused and looked up. "An old one." Elizabeth did nothing but nod sheepishly. He continued, "Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any sentiments or renewal of those offers..." He trailed off as he realized exactly which letter he held. Elizabeth could not meet his eyes, and he had to look at the letter again to make sure he had read it aright. "I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten," he muttered, shaking his head at his words. "Thank God I was wrong. But Elizabeth, I thought you had burned this before we married."

"I meant to," she said quietly, still unwilling to meet his eye. "Not that it would have mattered, because I believe I had it memorized long before then. But somehow I never got around to it. And then, today, I resolved never to burn it, for I could not part with anything from your hand. It has long ceased to give me pain, William."

"I can hardly believe that, as it says nothing very flattering to either of us. But if it gave you some comfort today, I shall not endeavour to part you from it again. I can only ask that you keep it from my sight, as it serves only to remind me of things I would much rather forget." He smiled at her. "But I am not angry with you, Lizzy, as you so clearly feared I would be."

"I didn't really believe you would be angry," she said with a small smile. "But I thought you would be disappointed, and that is almost as bad."

He burst out laughing. "You sounded absolutely childlike, Elizabeth. I am somewhat disappointed to find that this letter still exists, but I can perfectly comprehend your reasons for retaining it and I do not blame you in the least for not complying with my selfish request. Now, I rode all the way home today in the worst sort of suspense, and you promised to tell me your surprise right away. I cannot wait any longer: what has excited you so?"

She froze, and for the second time since his return tried uncomfortably to squirm away from him. "It's nothing," she whispered. "Not any more."

"Nothing? After all those hints, all those allusions to your wonderful surprise, it's nothing?" He furrowed his brow and pulled her closer to him. She would not escape until he was satisfied. "No, I will not be fooled. Come, Lizzy, be serious. What is it that you wished to tell me?"

"Please, Fitzwilliam, do not ask me. It doesn't matter any more. I ruined it. I could not bear to tell you now." Despite all his efforts, she would not look him in the face, and he was beginning to worry.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Please, Dearest, something is troubling you. Tell me what has distressed you so." He lifted her chin so he could look at her and he was shocked to find her face streaked with fresh tears. "Elizabeth..."

She took a deep breath. "I was pregnant."

* * *

Wow. Just in case anyone wanted to know the secret of getting reviews, here it is: kill off Mr. Darcy. Or, at least, pretend to--I don't have the heart to actually do him in! Most of you apprehended as much, or at least wanted to believe as much (whether you actually believed me or not is debatable). 

In truth, I had been planning to make them all think that Mr. Darcy died from the beginning. What I had not planned was the loss of the baby, but when in earlier chapters I added in the unexpected detail of Elizabeth's pains, I realized as I wrote that last chapter that I'd set myself up perfectly for a miscarriage. Besides, that gives me the opportunity of writing a few more chapters, since now I have to resolve that plot point, too. :) So keep reading! I don't know where we're going from here, but I hope it'll be fun!

Jaya


	8. Chapter 8

**Letters**

Jaina Kenobi

* * *

"I was pregnant." 

Elizabeth bowed her head and shut her eyes, dreading his reaction to her words. What would he think of her?

"Lizzy..." he breathed. "I cannot tell you how--wait." He paused, and she glanced up to see his smile turn into a confused frown. She quickly closed her eyes again. "_Was_ pregnant? Elizabeth, what happened?" It was all she could do to keep from crying again, but she did not trust herself to speak, and she could only shake her head. Gently, Darcy lifted her chin and said, "My love, please, tell me. Do not try to bear this burden alone."

She opened her eyes slowly, feeling the tears well up again at the incredible tenderness she read in his expression. "I was with child," she whispered. "But I miscarried. Oh, Fitzwilliam, I am so sorry! Please... please forgive me."

"Lizzy... my dearest, loveliest Lizzy... no, my sweet, no. I am certain you did everything within your power to ensure a healthy pregnancy; I find nothing for which I should forgive you," he said.

Elizabeth shook her head and tried to turn away from him, but he held her tightly. "No, no, I should have called another doctor, had a second opinion, I should never have trusted him when I could feel that something was wrong. And I should have taken more care when I recieved that dreadful letter... I should have known it was untrue, I should have demanded to see firm evidence before believing that you were dead, I should not have allowed it to distress me so, for perhaps if I had kept my head about me I would not have lost the baby. It was my fault, entirely my fault, and I shall not blame you if you choose never to forgive me for killing our child!" The last of her words were nearly drowned out as she was no longer able to keep her tears at bay and they were gasped between frantic sobs.

Darcy, to his credit, did not display anything but compassion for his wife. He held her close until her crying subsided once more, stroking and kissing her hair as he murmured whatever endearments came to mind. "I shall always forgive you, Lizzy," he said when she had quieted somewhat, "no matter what you think you have done. I know how little control you have over what has happened, and I do not blame you half as much as you seem to blame yourself."

"You should."

"Certainly not. I know little enough of the female sex, I admit, but I realilze that such things are not uncommon. Indeed, I recall only too well my own mother's distress over her miscarriages--and there were many, for in between myself and Georgiana there is quite a gap, and my mother was certainly not barren during those years. But neither she nor anyone else believed her to be at fault. As she explained it to me, a baby's development often goes awry, and rather than carry a flawed child to term, her body would simly reject it. It is no one's fault, Elizabeth, it was simply not meant to be." He kissed the top of her head and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, pulling her with him so that she was resting with her head pillowed on his chest. As he did so often when they were alone together, he began to run his fingers through her hair, and she took a great deal of comfort from the familiar sensation. But she could not be fully comfortable just yet.

"But it cannot be as common as you would think," she protested. "I do not believe that my mother ever lost a child."

He chuckled. "And how many families do you know which boast five children, with ages so near to each other as those of you and your sisters? I believe, my love, that your mother is rather the exception than the rule."

There was nothing Elizabeth could say to that, for as she thought about it she realized that he was right. Still, there was more on her mind. "But you, Sir, how can you be so implacable upon the reciept of this news? Are you not in the least distressed by it?" Her tone was, perhaps, overly bitter, especially considering the warmth of his reassurances, but she could not help herself.

"Yes, of course, but you must realize that I have had not held any great hopes for the past few weeks, as you have, and so have not been so sorely disappointed. It is difficult to mourn someone you never knew existed, Lizzy. I am much more concerned for you, and as you are so distraught one of us ought to be able to keep his head." He smiled playfully. "And you must know by now that I am very accomplished at hiding my feelings."

Elizabeth could not hold back a smile of her own at that. "How unlucky," she mused, "that you are always so reasonable. It puts me at quite a disadvantage, you know, and that is most ungentlemanlike of you."

"I am very glad that you have told me, for you know I absolutely depend upon your advice as to how a gentleman should behave. In the future, I promise to attempt to be less reasonable in my dealings with you," he said.

She laughed. "Excellent, Sir, thank you." How good it felt to be teasing him, and to hear his warm tone as he teased her back! And to think, only that morning, she had believed that she would never experience such happiness again. She reached for his free hand and kissed it tenderly, then held it to her breast with both of her own. "You are not to leave me ever again, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I absolutely forbid it."

"I have no intention of leaving you again," he said seriously. "The next time I am forced to go to town, even if it is only overnight, you are coming with me, unless that is utterly impossible. In which case, I will conduct my business by letter, regardless of the inconvenience. I will not put you and Georgiana through this again."

"Oh! Georgiana! William, you must go to her--I have been so selfish, keeping you all to myself. And this morning, I was so cruel to her and Jane. I must apologize. But no, you go first; she is your sister, and I daresay she is longing to see you." He tried to protest, but Elizabeth would have none of it. "Nonesense. I should probably sleep, anyway, to regain my strength, and she must be wondering by now if your return was just a dream. I will not keep you from her any longer." She squirmed out of his arms and kissed his cheek. "Go. I am not so distressed that I cannot bear to let you out of my sight--only my home."

He smiled and rose. "Very well, then. I expect to find you fast asleep when I return, Elizabeth." With a quick kiss, he bid her good-night and went to find his sister.

vVvVv

Georgiana looked up from her seat at her pianoforte to see Jane still reading complacently on the couch. "How does she remain so calm after all that has happened?" she wondered, feeling just a bit of jealousy. All day, Georgiana had worked hard to ensure that Pemberley would not suffer in the absence of its master and its mistress, and she had forced her own grief to the back of her mind. Even now, knowing as she did that her brother was safe and Elizabeth would probably recover, she kept her feelings in check. But it was taking a considerable effort on her part, and she was beginning to feel the effects of her exertions. It was all she could do not to retire early and allow herself to vent her emotions in the privacy of her chambers; her brother would come looking for her eventually, and she wished to make him proud of how she handled herself.

Jane stood abruptly, startling Georgiana out of her thoughts. "I believe I will invite my father and Mr. Bingley to join us, Georgiana, if you do not mind," she said.

"Not at all," Georgiana answered, mustering a smile. In fact, she was grateful for Jane's offer, as the short time alone would give her a few moments to collect herself. Jane returned the smile and left, and Georgiana breathed a quick sigh of relief. For a few moments, at least, she did not have to hide anything.

But no sooner had Jane left than there were footsteps in the hall and in walked her brother. Georgiana was very pleased to see him and her warm greeting conveyed it, but she was not so skilled at hiding her discomposure as she had hoped.

"I am sorry to have caused you such distress, Georgiana," he said as he sat next to her on the couch. "I hope you have not taken too much upon yourself as a result of this misunderstanding."

He could see through her all too well, she thought. "No, indeed, I have only done what had to be done. But I am so very glad that I shall not have to make a daily habit of it."

"Dare I ask what, exactly, you felt had to be done?"

Georgiana gave him a brief summary of all that she had done for her family and the estate in his absence, preferring not to dwell on the considerable amount of effort she had put into all of it. But he seemed to comprehend pefectly what she had gone through and he expressed himself as warmly as he could.

"I must confess, Georgiana, I am torn between concern and pride. I know what it must have cost you to do all of that, my dear, when you were no doubt struggling with your own feelings, and I am very proud of how well you handled yourself. I know how difficult it is to put one's emotions aside in order to do what must be done. But please, if it has taxed you at all, tell me at once that I may do something for your relief."

Blushing at recieving the very praise she had sought, Georgiana replied, "No, thank you, I am well. I mean, it was difficult, and I am so glad that I do not have to continue it for I do not know if I could, but it was not so very dreadful for just one day. That is, of course it was awful, but since it was for such a short time I daresay I will be all right. You needn't trouble yourself over me, Fitzwilliam."

His smile conveyed his warm pride, but he remarked no more on the subject and moved on to topics more comfortable for them both. They passed the evening together in very agreeable conversation, such as Georgiana could not remember having with him since his wedding. Even when they were rejoined by Mr. Bennet and the Bingleys, he paid her special attention, and she retired for the night convinced that she had not passed such a pleasant evening in a very long time. At last, she reflected as she lay in bed that night, everything was the way it should be. And with that satisfying thought, she fell asleep.

* * *

I have to apologize for the dreadfully long time it took me to get this chapter posted. It was incredibly difficult to write (partly because I had no clue where it was going, so I didn't have anything to work towards, like I have in the past), and I was busy this week what with the festivities on the 4th and then going down to visit my parents (and watch the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, of course!) on Wednesday evening. So I haven't exactly had much time to write. But I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! 

I don't know how much is left, but I'm certain that this isn't the end. There are some more letters that need to be written, after all. : )

Jaya


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